Tippy

The Great American Food Fight?

OK, so, to cheer myself up, I checked out the latest at News of the Weird. And immediately noticed a trend.

In the last three weeks, America has witnessed the following:

A grown man splatting his sister in the face with a piping-hot pie,

A cop hit by a randomly thrown doughnut,

Domestic assault by a wife on her convalescing husband...with a raw steak,

and now, second-degree assault with a pot of grits. O_o

So...is it fashionable now to attack friends, loved ones and random strangers with food or something?

If so, I'm making a sign that says "I bet you can't hit me with that chocolate" and haunting a streetcorner in San Francisco for a while.
Tippy

All hail Discordia?

In an attempt to cheer myself up, I entered Writers Digest's online contest for the worst movie loglines ever. The idea was to pack the entire plot of a ludicrously bad movie into one professional-looking sentence. You could enter two, and this is what I came up with.

*******

After a takeover of the White House by rogue Discordians, the President, his family and Secret Agent Angus MacGyver must gain their freedom using only a lime lollipop, a traffic cone, half an onion, a dried puffer-fish, and one firecracker.


When Glorg, God of Beer, is kidnapped by aliens, a former football hero, an eighty-six-year-old transvestite bikini model, a pair of redneck vampires and the entire population of Milwaukee must band together to address this threat to the brotherhood of Man.
Tippy

I've found Miriam's alarm clock!



^__^

In other news, I weathered another rejection and then went and submitted three more queries. I'm going to try to do ten more by the end of the week.

I also had an Extremely Cute Encounter.

One of the major reasons I'm childfree (besides not wanting to pass on my illnesses) is that my nerves simply cannot take kid-meltdowns. The moment I hear one, my blood pressure goes up, I feel trapped and defensive, and if possible, I exit. In the past, before I had the anxiety under control, I'd be mentally grumbling about kid and parent, with zero compassion for either. It wasn't really something I could help, but it was something I was happy to rid myself of as well. I don't like hating on people; it's not healthy or ethical.

Anyway, yesterday, I was on my way into North Berkeley on an errand when the two year old directly in front of me started having a meltdown. Now, the kid seemed pretty empathetic and reasonable for a tyke, but it was clear to everyone involved that he hadn't quite made the trip home before naptime. Mom had him pretty well in hand, but he just couldn't control it anymore. He even admitted it. "Do you just need your nap, honey?" "Yeah...."

He was very occupied with wanting to stand up supported by the pole, without Mom's help. Well, it was one of those evil Van Hool buses that cause so many falls regularly, so she explained she couldn't. He understood but was still upset about it. So, Mom did something smart--she asked her son WHY he wanted to hang on to the pole.

"I want to push the button for people!"

Huh.

Anyway, she's negotiating with him "it's only three more stops" and he insists that he wants to push the button for other people. "OK," she says. "Maybe someone will let you push the button if they have to get off before we do."

Well, my stop was coming up, so I leaned over and ask.

Never seen a meltdown stop so fast. I don't know, maybe he wanted to feel more like a big boy so he could act like one until he was back home for his nap. Or was trying to distract himself. Whatever the reason, I was smiling as I got off the bus.
giraffe

Comments on the Battle Royale manga

I've been a fan of the Battle Royale movie series for years. Lately, my efforts to distract away from the depression have involved a lot of online manga scanlations. Yesterday, after recovering a little, I managed to read most of the Battle Royale scanlation in one sitting.

It surpasses the live-action in plot and character complexity beyond what one would expect. That's not saying that the movie's bad--rather, it's that the manga is screamingly awesome.

OK, granted, the artist is obviously one of those voyeurism-obsessed manga geeks, and as a result there are tons of gratuitous panty shots, legs in improbably short schoolgirl skirts, girls stripping, and of course, boobies boobies boobies bOObies. Lots of beefcake, too, but nowhere near. And to his credit, the artist is not afraid of gross. The drooling broken maniacs drool, the brains goosh, and Kiriyama fucking repairs a tendon in his own arm on screen. *squick*

The character backstories are much more in-depth, which is damn effective in getting us to sympathize at least a little with every single student who is killed. Even Kiriyama, which is an amazing feat. Rendering the death of a murderous sociopath as something poignantly tragic...well, I only hope I can work up to that writer's standard.

Anyway, two thumbs and one baby giraffe up.
puppeh

It's in the box....

Ten years of research. Two years of writing and editing, 220,000 words. 713 double-spaced pages.

Today I drop off my manuscript with George so he can show it to an agent friend who represents fantasy writers.

I am exhausted, dragged, nervous as fuck and doing it anyway.

Death's Apprentice, at least until a professional tells me otherwise, is finally done.
giraffe

Work, work and more work...

I'm slowly recovering from last week.

John is doing better. The ultrasound didn't find anything stuck in his kidneys, so it looks like he's passed all the stones. He's got more energy now, and is taking longer and longer walks. He's started to be able to eat regularly again, and didn't need the final refill of his pain pills.

We're still broke as hell. I'm hoping to get my tax refund check in the next few days. Sooner the better. *sigh*

Still haven't been able to squeeze any editing out of myself, but considering what's happening at work right now it's not a big surprise. I'm staying until seven every damn night and coming home brain dead. :P

Think I'm taking Thursday off, once the audit stuff is done.